Chasing Cars
by Velosarahptor
Summary: Based on the Snow Patrol song Chasing Cars. Hermione and George share a private moment in between the crazy Weasley household events. G/Hr.


**Chasing Cars**

A one-shot by Grey Eyed

In a meadow, not far from Ottery St. Catchpole, two teenagers escape the hustle and bustle of wedding prep at home, and they just lay there, deep in thought, enjoying the silence and calm.

George Weasley is used to sharing everything with his brothers. Toys, food and clothing were all passed around. It was great, and all, but anything that you could call yours was sacred. When he was a child, he had a pet rock. Jimmy wasn't much, just a rock from the garden with a magic marker face drawn in, but he was George's. He was really protective of his friend, not letting anyone else hold him, or look at him. Molly Weasley thought it was adorable, and just a phase, but the truth was that Jimmy meant something special to George. The small, misshapen fellow represented originality, hope, and privacy, not to mention George-ness. Though he hasn't made an appearance for nearly fourteen years, Jimmy is still sitting in the bottom drawer of the twin's desk, buried in papers and broken bits of quills.

As a child, Hermione Granger was always told to share. "Share the blocks with Nathaniel, Hermione," her kindergarten teacher would instruct during playtime. "Share a book with your neighbor," they were told in third grade. "Share the computers," was said in fifth grade, when computers were new and they didn't have many at her small public school. When she got older, and throughout Hogwarts, they were told to share cauldrons, rats, mats, books, and Blast-Ended Skrewts. Sometimes, though, you need something that's yours. Although she was an only child, she still took pride in her small collection of books and toys that were hers and hers alone. Her favorite of which was her storybook, Aesop's Fables. Often, when she couldn't sleep, she'd clamber onto her desk chair and stand on her tip toes to reach it off of the very top of her bookshelf, and she'd read her favorite, 'The Tortoise and the Hare' until she fell asleep, book on chest. As a curious five year old, she had asked what the Tortoise and Hare's names were. When her mother told her they didn't have names, she saw fit to name them Timothy and Harold. Even now, twelve years later, she still called them by their proper names.

That meadow had been George's secret place, where he'd seek refuge when upset, or when his family was bugging him. It was hard to get there, through the vegetable patch (walking carefully, mind you, so as not to disturb his mum's cabbages and carrots) and a small forest of trees, hop the creek and around the big rock, until you saw a small patch of grass, maybe ten feet in diameter. For as long as he'd been going there, he'd never met another human being or brought anyone there. Before Hermione Granger, that is. There was something about her smile, something about the way her eyes lit up when she was talking passionately about something, that made him trust her with his secret place.

She'd never tell him, but she'd been in George's special meadow once before. Her parents took her camping there, the fall she had turned nine, when George would've been at Hogwarts for about a month. They'd spent a long weekend, or three days there, and while exploring on their last day, she had discovered a teetering old house, that looked as if it might collapse at any moment. Two red headed kids, which she later learned were named Ron and Ginny, played in the back yard, not noticing the brunette that was fascinated by their poor lifestyle. That was her first glimpse of the Burrow, her first glimpse of the magical world that integrated with her own.

I love you. Three simple words, that he'd only said to his mum before. There was something about those three small words that scared him. Sure, he had 'loved' Katie Bell back in fifth year, and then Alicia Spinnet in sixth. Seventh, he was smitten with a certain brunette bookworm, with whom he had shared a secret relationship that had still continued, even two years later. They wanted to tell people, but if Ron found out, he'd be furious. Neither of them wanted to hurt him. He really, truly loved her with all his heart, but even in his private meadow she had gushed over the day before, he couldn't say them. Even though he was feeling them, and he wanted to, he didn't want to break the silence, just lying there silently; trying to prove something by the way he stayed with her.

I love you. She loved her parents, her Grandfather in the hospital, Ron, and Harry, too, but they were family (or practically, anyway). In fourth year, she liked Victor Krum, but nothing really happened then. Then George came along, being all sweet and such when she was freaking out about her O.W.L.s and Umbridge, and coming up with brilliant ideas like S.P.E.W. and the DA. He had kissed her under the mistletoe outside the Room of Requirement after they had been decorating it for the holidays. She was definitely in love with him, but something about those three small words scared her. Even though she desperately wanted to, it was like she couldn't break the silence in that meadow. Instead, she just lay there, trying to show that she'd be there for him.

He pulled her in closer, one hand on her waist, and pressed a kiss to her soft pink lips. She giggled, and played with his messy mop of red hair. He looked up at her, smiling, and she smiled back down at him.

"I love you," they said simultaneously, which caused them to laugh. Momentarily, they both had forgot what they were always told, and didn't share this moment with anyone but each other. And they liked it that way.

**A/N So, I hope I convinced a certain SOMEBODY that George and Hermione BELONG together. So yeah. This was inspired by the song Chasing Cars, by Snow Patrol, it's like the sweetest song ever. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, because otherwise Ron would be dead in a hole somewhere. And I don't own the song, no matter how sweet, and I also don't own Aesop's Fables, because my name's not Aesop. **

**~Grey Eyed. **


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